USS Midway (CVB/CVA/CV-41) was the lead ship of her class, and the first to be commissioned after the conclusion of World War II. Active in the Vietnam conflict, the Navy’s Overseas Family Residency Program (OFRP), the Iranian Hostage Crisis, Operation DESERT STORM, she is the only remaining non-Essex class aircraft carrier of the World War II era. She was the first US warship constructed that exceeds the beam limits of the Panama Canal. Laid down on 27 October 1943 at Newport News Shipbuilding in Tidewater Virginia, her revolutionary hull design was based on what would have been the Montana-class battleship. She was launched 20 March 1945 with Mrs. Bradford William Ripley, Jr. as sponsor and commissioned 10 September 1945, Captain Joseph F. Bolger Commanding. Midway is currently a museum ship in San Diego Harbor, moored at the former Navy Supply Center pier. Over a million visitors walk her decks each year.

They say that you don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows, and everyone in Washington was pretty much done with the whole Vietnam thing by the time the Nobel Peace prizes were handed out for the cruel charade that was the Paris Peace Talks.

I think it was about the size and shape of the conference table, though mostly I was just relieved that the Draft was over and I didn’t have to worry about anything more important than finding a job once that plush college gig ended in the summer of ’73.

A retired spook comrade is a docent on Midway-Maru and he is trying to get people interested in the CVIC (CV= aircraft carrier, IC= Intelligence Center) spaces. It is padlocked at the moment, though if I could breach the locks and undog the hatch over the formidable knee knocker, I would not need lights to find the hinged green linoleum planning table where I used to hang out, brushing the counter on my right were the 200-cup industrial coffee maker used to sit.

Now, this is going to go in a couple directions.

I had a beer at Willow with Senior Chief Dave, who was onboard for Frequent Wind in 1975- he left CV-41 about twelve months before I reported to VF-151.

“Frequent Wind” is the end of Vietnam, for the Americans, anyway.

I remember standing in the rooftop bar of the Caravel Hotel in Ho Chi Minh City- we still called it Saigon- and looking over to the roof of the former US Embassy, which served as a helo pad in the chaos of the fall of the city. It was 1995- the twentieth anniversary of the fall of the city.

The skyline was only then beginning to change, and things then were the way things were.  It was a very emotional day, as we walked over to the former Embassy and asked to look at our property. The Vietnamese caretakers were confused by our presence, but cooperative.

They used the building as the oil ministry for a while, but the place was fraught with too much symbolism. They could not find the keys, so we contented ourselves with walking around the grounds.

The ground troops may have been gone that day twenty years before, but there were still 16,000 Americans assigned to liaison jobs, and tens of thousands of American dependents, employees and colleagues left behind.

I remember President Ford appearing in Congress with charts to ask for renewed aid to counter the breach of the Paris Accords, but no one had the stomach for opening up the war again and the North Vietnamese advance was unstoppable.

And so, four aircraft carriers- Hancock, Enterprise, Coral Sea and Midway, all with their escorts, appeared twelve miles off the coast of what was ceasing to be the Republic of Vietnam, and the helicopters began to fly.

There is enough drama and horror about the fall of the city that I could spend the next month talking about it. Americans died- not in combat, but in a plane crash trying to get orphans out of the grasp of the advancing North Vietnamese refugees.

The reason for this stroll through a sad and ugly time is the subject of the exhibition of a Cessna 0-1 Bird Dog aircraft at the Midway Museum in San Diego. It is not the actual Army spotter plane that made Naval Aviation History- the real one is on display in Pensacola, but it is close enough for a powerful statement about an extraordinary time.

Our pal Mike is one of the Midway docents, who provide patter for the visiting tourists. He was interested in how the ship supported the evacuation, since he and the other docents talk about the amazing (and inspirational) 29 April 1975 event.

With North Vietnamese tanks advancing, South Vietnamese Air Force Major Buang-Ly took off from Con Son <http://en.wikipedia.or>  Island with his wife and five children loaded into the little spotter plane. After evading enemy ground fire, the Major headed out to sea and spotted Midway. With only an hour of fuel remaining, he dropped a note asking that the “runway” be cleared so he could land.

Disobeying the direct orders of the embarked flag, Midway’s CO, Captain Lawrence Chambers ordered a bunch of UH-1 Huey helicopters be pushed over the side to make room, and brought the nose of the ship into the prevailing wind and rung up “all ahead full.” With wind over the deck and speed of advance and the low stalling speed of the Bird Dog, the Major literally floated over the round-down, and brought his family aboard with an “OK Two” on the first (and only) pass.

I had a beer with ISC Dave on Friday at Willow. He was a Midway FREQUENT WIND-era sailor, and he promised me some words on the experience of being at flight quarters for a week straight.

Eventually the helicopters stopped coming, and that was that.

Which also was not true. Hundreds of thousands of South Vietnamese still sought escape. They just transitioned to become Boat People, and they headed for the gray ships of the US Navy for rescue.

Guidance for the treatment of the boat people was stark: Midway personnel were to board and ensure that the vessel was seaworthy and to provide water and directions to nearest land. The boarding officer, a crusty LDO, reported that the boat was taking on water and he needed pumps. He requested three from Damage Control- one of which he used to pump out the bilges and the two others to pump water in.

“Can’t keep her afloat,” he reported, and the refugees were brought aboard CV-41 and made the short list for further transport to the land of the Big PX. The junk was dispatched as a hazard to navigation with 5-inch rifle fire.

It was a busy time in the South China Sea. Not everything got pushed off the deck and into the blue water.

The Mayaguez incident serves as the official end to the war in SE Asia, and Vietnam had nothing to do with it. It was mid-May of 1975. The Cambodians detained a US-flagged merchant, and the Pentagon took action, not knowing the crew of the ship had been released unharmed. The names of the Americans killed, as well as those of three Marines left behind and subsequently executed by the Khmer Rouge on Koh Tang Island are the last names on The Wall on the Mall.

Midway proceeded on Thailand and took on USAF and RVN aircraft and ferried these aircraft to Guam.

For a while, the North Vietnamese who were running the newly unified nation were the biggest supplier of American war material in the world.

That is all part of Midway’s history, and some things for the docents to talk about. There is a lot more, of course. There is a lot of talk about our enduring commitment to Afghanistan these days. I would not want to be the last American in Kabul thinking about commitment, you know?

Copyright 2012 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com